


Alderaan

by Catsnake



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fandom Trumps Hate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:28:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsnake/pseuds/Catsnake
Summary: This work takes place in an alternate universe in which Alderaan was not destroyed, and so the Resistance is led from a base there. It follows Poe and Finn in this slightly altered setting, in which certain events happen differently.It is based on a prompt by Dema for Fandom Trumps Hate 2018. Thanks for contributing to FTH, Dema! I hope I did it justice.





	Alderaan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dema](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dema/gifts).



A vast precipice. The setting sun, far-removed, its brilliant hues filtered by the mountain peaks so that all that reached the domes and high rectangles of the Resistance base were hazy, muted tones of dusk. The mountain air, crisp. 

Poe breathed it in. A cloud of birds crossed through a pass in the mountains before him, far in the distance. Alderaan had been a good home to him. Leia had taken him in, taken him under her wing, and the Resistance had proven a good fit for him. The local Alderaani people had welcomed him with open arms. On evenings like this, where he stood on the ledge at the base’s edge, which hung over the mountain valley, and breathed in the cold, fresh air, it felt as though even the planet was welcoming him. A home.

He heard the telltale sound of rolling and whirring behind him, culminating in a rising chirp and a quick tap on his leg. 

“What is it, BB-8?” he said half-turning and glancing down in time to see the tip of an appendage folding into a panel on the astromech’s body. 

A quick succession of tones. 

“Who is it that needs to speak with me?” Poe replied. 

“I did,” came a voice, as a man jogged over from behind, “if you have a minute.”

BB-8 cocked its head, looking from Poe to Finn, made a drawn-out mock-flirtatious whistle, and rolled away. 

“Sure,” said Poe, his heart lifting in his chest a little. 

“I’m supposed to take this report over to the administration in C-76,” Finn said, brandishing a tablet, “but I don’t…actually know where that is.”

“Follow me,” Poe said simply, with a grin. 

Unlike Poe, Finn was new to the base. He’d much less time to settle in, and he seemed to be having a somewhat rockier time adjusting to life on Alderaan in comparison. 

Poe watched the other man through the side of his gaze. Finn matched his pace effortlessly, but his gaze wandered to all of the buildings, the fading sky, the denizens of the base they passed, which included a diverse range of species and talents, and a fair share of local, dedicated Alderaani. 

There was no doubt in Poe’s mind that some of Finn’s difficulty came from the newness of the open world at large compared with what he had always known before. Poe had seen the world beyond Alderaan’s peaks—he’d seen many suns, in many contexts. If anything, it was settling down to a singular home base that was new territory for him. 

Finn, on the other hand… Poe watched his face, watched the bright, dark eyes take in everything intently as they walked. Finn was from a world Poe couldn’t truly fathom, when he really tried to imagine it. A rigid and structured life, and at the end of the day, an expendable one. Finn hadn’t even owned a name before his defection. The courage it would have taken to pull away so desperately and completely from the only thing he had ever known… Poe could identify with and admire that. 

And now here Finn was, learning as he went, taking everything in, surviving by virtue of his quick wit. 

“Still wearing my coat?” Poe said. 

“Huh?” Finn looked down. “Oh. Yeah. Hey, it’s a good coat.”

“It suits you,” Finn said. 

His mind brushed briefly against the knowledge of Alderaani customs he had learned in the past few years, here on the primary Resistance base. He had learned what such a gesture would mean, traditionally. Did he mean it that way? Poe considered. 

Out loud, he said, “Here we are. C-76.”

“Thanks,” Finn said. “Gotta take this in.” Finn paused. “Will I see you around?”

“Dinner tonight?” Poe suggested. 

“Works for me,” Finn said with a smile. He headed into the building. 

Poe smiled, watching the other man head into the bustling fray at the building’s entrance.

* * *

Their relationship had grown, and continued to grow, organically. Poe could probably count the number of times they had specifically, explicitly addressed it on one hand, if he ever cared to. Rather, it had started simply: a sense of warmth, reciprocated smiles. A widening bond, until things had hovered on the edge of what could plausibly be considered platonic. And when they both realized they were okay with where they stood, they took it further. 

Poe adjusted his collar in the mirror, frowned, flattened it and adjusted it again. Behind him, he heard a whistle imitating a catcall from BB-8. He hadn’t even heard the little droid enter. 

“Knock it off,” he chuckled. 

He left his small quarters—a tidy space, and one he was fond of—and headed over to the communications building. He took an elevator up, and then a short ladder to climb higher than the elevator went: the roof. 

Poe had been expecting to get there early, but apparently Finn had had the same thought. The other man was already standing by a railing, looking out over the lights of the base below, the mountains mere looming shadows in the distance. 

“I see you found it just fine this time,” Poe said, approaching, and Finn turned his head over his shoulder to look at him. 

“Figured I’d get here first for once,” Finn said. “It’s a good view…but, man, you sure like heights.” 

“I’m a pilot,” Poe said. 

“Oh yeah.” Finn smiled. “One hell of a pilot.”

“Your words. Not mine.”

Poe noticed a sealed bottle and a couple of glasses on the floor by Finn’s feet. He walked over, poured two glasses, took his, and sat down beside the roof’s edge. 

“This place has a nice view,” Finn commented, sitting down beside Poe. 

“The top of the communications building?”

“The base. Or Alderaan in general, I guess,” Finn replied. 

Poe took a sip. This wasn’t the Alderaanian wine he had been expecting. 

“Corellian,” Finn grinned, seeing Poe’s reaction. “Surprise. I’d been saving it.”

Poe smiled. 

“So,” he said. “You’ve been here for a while now. Feeling anymore at home in the Resistance?”

“Well, I don’t feel like a traitor. I always kinda felt like I wasn’t cut out to be in the First Order. As a real member of the Resistance though? It takes some getting used to,” Finn said. 

Finn tended not to dwell on serious discussion, and right on cue, he looked out on the lights of the maze of buildings of the base below, and pointed. 

“Hey, check that out,” he said. “That’s a damn big ship.”

A huge oblong ship was rising far in the distance, coming up over the valley.

“A transport. GR-75,” Poe said casually, and turned his attention back on Finn. Finn turned to him with an easy smile. 

Poe sighed. 

“Finn,” he said. “I know it’s a ridiculous question, because there’s so much more at stake here than us. I know you’d probably be worse off somewhere else. But still…are you happy? Here? With...me?”

Finn watched him for a moment. 

“Listen,” he said. “I could have run. Gone, like, literally anywhere else. I chose to come here. Because it was the right thing to do.” He took Poe’s hand, gripped it tightly. “I chose you. Because it felt right.”

Poe pulled the other man into a kiss. They sat there, with the view of the base below them, when suddenly, they heard a distinct click. They pulled away and Poe was on his feet in a moment, gun drawn, with Finn quickly following suit. 

The sound had come from an adjacent rooftop, a tower supporting an enormous communications dish. The only space for a person there was on the walkway surrounding the dish, where an elevator could take you back inside and down the tower; a maintenance ladder ascended to the dish itself, but it was clearly visible, and empty. 

“Who’s over there? What do you want?” Poe called. 

“Yeah! What he said!” Finn added. 

Poe gave him a quick look, and Finn shrugged. 

They heard a series of firm footsteps, and a gleaming figure came into view on the walkway, from around the side of the tower. 

“Oh! Don’t shoot!”   
“Threepio?” Poe said. “What the hell?”

“Oh my.” C-3PO said. “I was just”—

“Is that a cam in your hands?”

C-3PO tried for a moment, ineffectually, to hide his hands behind his back, and then gave an affected deep sigh. 

“Yes,” he said. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Master Dameron. You see, I was just”—

“Threepio! What the hell!”

“—I was just walking down to the central administration unit, and I was trying to get to the third floor, and it was bustling and you know how hard it is to get anywhere there during lunch time, that third floor is a terrible bottleneck point for people and I was—“

“Get to the point, Threepio,” Finn said exasperatedly. 

“I was assaulted by a couple of journalists. Or at least, that’s what they called themselves. They run the local tabloid here that runs all of the base’s gossip, oh you know the one. They insisted I follow you and snap some photos for their piece. I tried turning them down, but—“

“All right, all right,” Poe said. “Let me see that.”

C-3PO tossed him the cam, and he caught it with both hands. He opened the photo viewer. Finn pressed against him, peering over his shoulder. There was a photo of them kissing against the backdrop of the base, eyes closed, faces tense and passionate. 

“It’s not actually a bad photo,” Finn whispered. Poe gave him a look. “What?”

Poe scrolled to the next one. A photo of the two of them up here on the roof, talking and drinking. A photo of them standing side-by-side at the rooftop’s railing, looking out. A photo of them walking down the street in the afternoon sunlight. 

“How long have you been following us?” Poe said. 

He scrolled through a few more photos, sighed, and scrolled back to the latest. He deleted the photo of their kiss, and then tossed the cam back to C-3PO, calling, “Catch.”

“Oh!” 

The droid caught the cam with an awkward fumble. 

“Go back and deliver them. Just don’t let me catch you doing this again.”

“Noted,” said the droid. He ambled over to the elevator in the tower, and walked inside.

“Was that really a good idea?” Finn said. 

“They’re pests. They’d have followed us for photos anyway. At least I got to approve those,” Poe said. 

He didn’t say it out loud, but it was also reassuring, if uncomfortable, to know that a contingent of the base’s denizens were fans of the famous duo’s relationship. He worried about how Finn was seen, particularly as a former storm trooper, and this was good publicity, at least. 

Finn shrugged. Poe grasped his hand, and drew him back over to the view of the base’s lights. 

“Where were we?” he said, before drawing Finn in. 

* * *

They were walking side-by-side down one of the many winding, narrow alleyways of the base, talking about mundane topics. Busy as the base tended to be, it was crowded, and they occasionally passed strings of people, pressing against the walls of the nearby buildings to make room when they needed to. 

It wasn’t long before they jostled past a tall ithoran and a human hurrying past. As they pushed past, Finn stumbled into the ithoran, and he stepped back, turning to face them. His human friend turned to them as well, starting to say, “Watch it.”

He froze when he saw Finn. 

“Ah,” he said. “The storm trooper.” 

Finn’s face fell. 

“That’s not me,” he said. 

“First Order scum,” spat the man, turning around to walk away with his companion. 

Poe reached out and held him with an iron grip on his shoulder. 

“I don’t think I just heard you say that,” he said slowly. 

The man glared at him over his shoulder. The ithoran tensed, watching them, as if ready to step in at any moment. 

Poe was struggling to contain himself: he was seconds from throwing a punch, and the man continued to stare him down with a resolute glare, readying himself to fight back. 

“Let it go!” said Finn, stepping over to them. He walked in front of Poe, and placed his hand on Poe’s free arm. “Just let it go. It’s not worth anything.”

Poe looked at him, and then reluctantly released the man, who broke free with a violent shrug, spat at Poe’s feet, and then turned and continued walking away with his ithoran friend. Poe scowled after them. 

Finn planted himself firmly in front of Poe’s stare. He planted a hand on either of Poe’s shoulders, and looked him in the eye. 

“Poe. It’s fine,” he said. 

“That is absolutely not fine,” said Poe. “Nothing about that was fine.”

“It’s not worth it. Come on.”

Eventually, they continued walking. 

“Do you deal with that a lot?” Poe asked. 

Finn gave him a quick glance. 

“No, not really,” he said. “Not as much anymore.”

Poe continued to seethe. He had little to say for the next few hours. 

* * *

Poe and Finn were sitting in Poe’s quarters. Poe was reading reports, and Finn was sitting beside him, scrolling through his tablet. 

“Ooh,” said Finn.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever been to Bespin?” 

Finn held up the tablet, showing him a photo. He scrolled to another.   
“Looks gorgeous,” said Poe, smiling and turning back to his reports. “No, I haven’t.”

“We should go.”

“Yeah?”

“When this is all over and done with. We could have a great view in Cloud City, I bet. As Resistance heroes? I bet they’d even give us a swimming pool.”

Poe laughed. “Resistance heroes, huh.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t really give all that much thought to what happens after this. It probably won’t really be over in our lifetimes, I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” Finn said. 

“You’d really want to go to Cloud City, huh? I could take you anywhere. I’m a pilot, you know.”

“I think I’ve heard something about that, yeah,” Finn said, smiling.

He turned back to the tablet. 

“I don’t really know where I’d go,” he said. He continued to scroll. After a moment, he laughed. 

“Oh hey,” he said. “It’s that ridiculous article. The tabloid one. About us.” He laughed again as I started to read it. “Resistance power couple? Sure, that sounds like us. Ha, it says…” he grew quiet suddenly. 

“What is it?” Poe asked, looking over, concerned. 

“It’s just something dumb,” he said. “They’re speculating that we might be married. Something about me wearing your coat.” He looked up at Poe. “Apparently that’s an Alderaan custom.”

“Imagine that,” said Poe. He set his reports down in front of him. 

“Married, huh? Is that what some of the Alderaani here think?” said Finn. 

“It might be. I haven’t exactly asked them.”

“Is that what you…did you know about this tradition?” 

“I might have heard of it once or twice,” said Poe. His heart started beating faster in his chest, though he held his composure. 

There was a long pause. 

“Is that…what you meant by it?” Finn said slowly. 

Poe hesitated, and then knelt down beside Finn. 

“Would you want that?”

Finn blinked. 

“Oh. Poe, are you—are you asking me”—

A sudden flash of light interrupted them. They both turned to see BB-8 leaning around a corner, looking at them. 

As all three of them exchanged a glance, BB-8 suddenly gave a chirp and then rolled away. 

“BB-8! Not you too!” said Poe as he leaped to his feet. He ran after the small droid. 

Finn heard the hiss of Poe’s door, and then a fading “BB-8! Delete that picture!” as the footsteps, and the astromech’s beeps, traveled out far into the hall beyond Poe’s quarters. 

* * *

After that conversation, a few weeks had past, with neither of them directly addressing the topic again. But it had been on both of their minds, Poe could sense. 

Certainly, it had been on his, and endlessly. 

What would it really mean to either of them, here on this base? What would really change? 

It wasn’t like they could go anywhere. The peaks of these mountains, the high blue sky, it was a prison. A cell, where they hid from the First Order, carrying out what they had to do in silence, always a note of fear in the backdrop. Like mice. 

Poe reflected on this increasingly bitterly as he carried out his daily tasks. It was true that the possibility remained that he could be assigned on another mission off-world. Even that idea no longer carried the thrill that it used to.

It wasn’t that he was regretting his dedication to the Resistance. Nor was he dissatisfied with his position within it. The Resistance was the only place he fit in this galaxy, with the war going on. He was a part of the force trying to make things right in the world, and that was where he belonged. 

But he was growing bitter that the war dragged on. The destruction of the Empire wasn’t enough. Still there had to be dark forces clamoring for power, to silence innocent voices. What was happening to him? He used to thrive on working for the Resistance and pulling off daring missions. 

He thought of the photo Finn had showed him, of Cloud City. He imagined some version of himself living there full-time. This Poe didn’t have a war beyond his loft apartment with a stunning view. He was pilot because he enjoyed it. 

He saw himself dressed in a nice suit, standing on a balcony. And then Finn would emerge from inside the apartment, come outside and join him, smiling. He’d slide an arm around Poe’s shoulder…

Finn. 

He sighed. He wasn’t really sure where they stood now. Had Finn taken their last conversation as a real proposal?

Had he meant it as one himself?

He was actually fairly relieved that their schedules had kept them busy enough to warrant not having to have anything more than passing conversation lately. Of course, sooner or later, they’d have to revisit the topic. Or, he thought, they could just meet up and…ignore it. 

“...real threat of a First Order raid. Dameron? You with me?” 

“Yes.” Poe snapped his attention back. “Right. Sorry.”

* * *

Poe found Finn sitting on a stack of crates near a cargo bay. He knew Finn often came here to eat his lunch, or sometimes just to sit out somewhere that wasn’t his quarters. In many ways, Finn could was extremely unpredictable, but Poe was glad that in some small ways, at least, he had him figured out.

“Hey!” Finn greeted him. He was looking at his tablet, and closed it as Poe approached. “Nice day.”

“It is,” Poe said, pausing to look up and around them. 

It was a bright afternoon. The peaks of the mountains around stood impassively against a bright blue sky. A whorl of soft clouds drifted lazily over the valley beyond the base, and Poe thought for just a split second of the photo of Cloud City. 

“So, I know it’s been a while. We haven’t really gotten to talk,” Poe said. He figured he’d be better off just launching into it. 

Finn tensed a little bit, though he maintained his smile. 

“About, uh, marriage,” said Poe, running his hand through his dark hair. 

“I’d like to.”

Poe paused. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re surprisingly bad at this. You’re supposed to be the charming one.”

Poe laughed. 

“But, sure,” Finn said. “I’d consider marriage down the road. I kind of can’t believe I’m saying this right now.”

“Crazy, right?” Poe said. “Even crazier, though…” 

He knelt down right there, in the cargo bay and in front of the stack of crates atop which Finn was perched. 

“So, will you marry me?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” Poe laughed. “Oh shit.”

Finn hopped down from the crates. He approached the other man with a surprised expression that warmed into a still-surprised smile. 

“Poe”—

That’s when it all went to hell. 

The sky opened up with screaming. Shadows loomed over the valley, descending from above and beyond the mountains. The screaming was ships, Poe quickly realized. They crouched down instinctively. 

Ships, alright. Big ones. And several of them. 

“Come on,” Poe found himself saying. 

They ran. 

Alarms blared. The base was instantly on high alert. The Resistance base was as well-prepared as it could be. After all, they had a specific protocol for this very event. They hadn’t expected to be able to hide from the First Order here forever, after all. 

Already, some of the ships had landed, and Resistance fighters were meeting them with guns blazing. Poe and Finn were rushing to the docks. Other pilots were quickly loading up into their fighters. 

“I’ll do what I can,” Finn said, drawing a blaster. “You: don’t die.”

Poe leaned down from the ladder and pulled him into a kiss. 

“You too,” he called down. He paused. “Hey Finn! I love you.”

Then he climbed into the cockpit, and tried not to think about the fact that he was leaving Finn down there in the fray. BB-8 was already rolling over, and then the little droid was being fit into the astromech port. 

“Ready?” Poe said. BB-8 chirped. 

He took off. 

His formation radioed in to one another in turn. He led them on a strike against the First Order carriers, which were hovering low to the ground and still spilling out enemy troopers onto the ground. 

They dived and fired, and then pulled up again. They hadn’t run into much resistance in the air—yet. 

Poe was able to focus himself entirely on the task at hand, just like old times. Slowly, against what had first seemed like all odds, the First Order forces seemed to be retreating. 

Had this really been all it had taken? That was odd, Poe thought. Why would the First Order forces have come here so relatively unprepared? It didn’t make any sense. 

And yet, it was undeniable now: the remaining carriers were struggle to pull up into the atmosphere and get away, and the First Order storm troopers groundside, what was left, were being captured and gunned down. From what Poe could already see, the base had suffered heavy casualties of its own. His throat tightened for a moment, but he refused to let himself think about it. Not yet. Not till he could afford to fall apart. 

Gradually, the end seemed evident. He could cheers across frequencies. The other pilots radioed exultations and cheers. They were glad to be alive. Glad it was over. Poe couldn’t yet bring himself to join them. 

BB-8 beeped softly, as though it could read his mind. 

“I’m sure you’re right,” Poe answered. “But I’ll still feel better when I see for myself.”

He finally pulled in for a landing. The hatch opened, and he climbed out, removing his helmet and carrying it in his arm as he descended the ladder. A droid lifted BB-8 from the ship, and placed it down on the ground, where it rolled over to follow Poe. 

He looked around. No sign of Finn. Well, he thought, Finn could be just about anywhere, helping to deal with the aftermath. Worst case, he could be being carried to the infirmary. Or even worse…no. He refused to let himself stand here and worry until he knew he had reason to. 

“Poe!”

He turn sharply, and saw Finn running up behind him. A jolt of elation shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He was all right. Finn looked rough, but entirely uninjured. But something was wrong, he realized as the other man got closer. 

Finn’s face didn’t carry the joy of victory that had been expressed by the pilots. He looked shocked and grim. 

Finn ran up to Poe, catching his breath. 

“Hey,” said Poe, trying to force a smile, “hold on, what’s”—

“Poe,” gasped Finn, crouching for a second until he was breathing normally again. He grasped Poe’s arms urgently. “It’s the command. They’re dead. She’s dead. General Organa.”

Poe blinked slowly with shock. 

So, he thought numbly. The First Order had been successful after all. 

* * *

Poe stood in front of the mirror. He was dressed in formal white attire. His hair, grown out longer than he had usually kept it, was formed into a braid, an Alderaanian gesture of mourning. He had taken in more of their culture than he had realized, he thought idly to himself. 

“You look great, for what it’s worth,” said Finn, standing behind him. 

Poe turned. He couldn’t muster a smile this time. 

“This doesn’t feel real,” he said. “But I’m glad to do it.”

“You’ll be great,” Finn said. 

They walked toward the door. 

“Are you ready?” Finn asked. 

Poe nodded. 

“My husband, leader of the Resistance,” Finn grinned. 

He took his hand, and they walked outside and over to the central command building. All along the way, Resistance members stood outside to watch them. Some gave respectful nods, and a few smiled at Poe as he passed. If any of them still took issue with Finn, none dared to show it, at least, Poe noted. 

Everyone was watching. He was about to be assigned a new title. 

He’d owed everything to Leia, he thought grimly. She had been the one to first open up Alderaan to him as his home. She had inspired him to stick with the Resistance. And now she was gone, and he was left to—somehow—do his best in her footsteps. 

They reached the command center. He turned to Finn, who nodded at him. He took a deep breath, and went inside. 

* * *

“I’m sorry that we never had an actual wedding,” Poe said. 

They were standing out on top of the roof of the communications building again, looking out over the base. The mountains no longer felt like a comforting, resolute presence. It felt as though a First Order fleet could be lying in wait behind them, ready to ambush them again. They knew where the base was with certainty now. The Resistance would likely have to relocate. 

“That’s still a thing that people do?” Finn said, cracking a smile. 

“Maybe we’ll have the time someday,” Poe said. He drew Finn over to him, gave him a long kiss and then held him there. 

He imagined that version of himself in some peaceful universe again, lounging idly in Cloud City, lying out on a balcony, entangled with Finn, looking out at the sunset in the clouds. In some other universe, they were relaxing right now, Poe thought. Spending time and enjoying one another’s company, thoughts of death somewhere far away. 

But that was in some other universe. Here, death loomed. The First Order was a real threat, and he would have to have a hand in dealing with it. The Resistance base that sprawled beneath him was now in part his responsibility, and for a moment, he almost felt dizzy. That was unlike him. He’d always been sure of himself. It was one of the things that had first drawn Leia to him, had gotten her to eventually take note of his potential. 

He looked to Finn. Leia had shown him how, in this small space in the center of a war, to feel at home. And now he could help do the same for Finn. He couldn’t give the man a safe apartment high in the clouds, or a wedding, or even, really, as much of his time as he wanted to. But a safe place, a home—that, he could do. 

“I love you,” Poe murmured. 

They stood there, in each other’s arms, and watched the sunset—no clouds, no balcony, only the grim distant mountains, the descending darkness, and, side-by-side, each other.


End file.
